


Persiflage

by pan_dora



Series: The One With the Steo One-Shots [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Movie Night, Theo doesn't know his movies, and Stiles is personally offended because of it, prompts, soft steo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 09:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16741804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan_dora/pseuds/pan_dora
Summary: “That’s what I’m asking you.” Stiles glances at the TV and cackles. “I’ve never seen anybody cry during a Resident Evil movie.” This evening, night – how late is it anyway? – gets better and better. He’s so glad he didn't leave with the others. “What’s gotten to you? The untimely death of the licker?” He leans forward wiggling his brows, Theo rolls his eyes. “Matt's kidnapping? The horrific acting?”Theo runs his fingers through his hair and huffs. “Maybe I reached my limit putting up with your dumb ass.”





	Persiflage

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I received:  
>  __  
>  **Theo crying to a not really sad movie. Make it fun)**  
>  I hope it's somewhat close to what you wanted! <3

Stiles grunts, mutters and squeezes his eyes shut. As if that could prevent him from waking up further. He knows it’s too late, everybody and their brother knows its too late. But it’s awfully comfortable in bed, the blanket super soft around him and the body next to him seductively warm. A hand snuck under his shirt, trails his spine, gentle fingers brushing over his skin. He feels snug, cared for – so, can anybody really blame him? The sun can kiss his ass. He’s going to stay in bed today. Fuck responsibilities.

Sudden upbeat music jolts him more awake. Someone cusses. The hand vanishes from his back and he’s jostled as Malia moves next to him to turn the volume down.

Stiles stiffens. _Hold on just one fucking second_.

Malia and he broke up two weeks ago. Scott’s not slept in his bed since they were ten and while Lydia and he do share a bed, they've never shared a blanket before.

 _What the hell_?

Stiles slowly blinks his eyes open trying to take in his surroundings. This doesn't even feel like his bed. It's too hard. His back let him know multiple times that he should invest in a new mattress rather sooner than later. Also, the light he noticed does not come from the sun. It’s a bright white, almost aggressive light. Most likely coming from a TV or a laptop somewhere behind him. Did he fall asleep while watching a movie? Wait. He's not in his own bedroom, and he's watching- _shit_. When realisation finally hits him with a brick, Stiles jerks away only to bang his head against a godforsaken side table. He almost howls in pain as bright lights explode behind his eyelids. It fucking hurts. _Oh god_. He sits up, covering the back of his head with both hands and leans forward. Part of him checks the symptoms for more urgent damage. The much bigger part of him is too busy cussing, though.

At least he’s awake now; so, there's that.

“Stiles?” The sounds from the TV die down. Suddenly light bites his eyes, and he screws them shut again. “Hey, let me see.” Theo tugs at his wrists then tilts his head forward a little, fingers gentle at his cheek. “That’s probably gonna be a bump.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Stiles presses a hand to the back of his head again and adds, “ _fuck,_ ow.”

Theo snorts and Stiles turns to glare at him. Any insult gets lost on his way to his mouth as he locks eyes with the guy. Are they red? Why do they look so read and... and glassy? His mouth falls open and his hand away from his head. He gapes at him, confused. Okay, _what_? How hard did he hit his head? Stiles blinks, squints, ignores Theo’s steadily growing confusion. Instead, he turns around to check the TV.

He remembers now.

Liam, Mason, Corey, Stiles, and Theo have met for a movie night at the latter’s new place. It's a studio apartment. One large room segmented into a bedroom, living room and kitchen by half high walls. It’s bright and comfortable, modern and straight out of a catalogue. Theo needs to make his home a bit more like, well, _home_.

They converted the sofa into a bed for more space, ordered food and watched a Marvel movie. It’s something the five of them have been doing for a while now. After the others had left, Stiles stayed to help clean up. Theo started another movie to fill the weird silence between them as they worked, and Stiles must’ve fallen asleep after he’d decided to stay until that’s over too.

Stiles opens his mouth, closes it, at a complete and utter loss for words. Eventually, he opts for a squint.

Theo bristles, “what?”

For a second, Stiles considers telling him to chill, it's not like a single emotion is going to kill him. “Have you been crying?”

Theo stares at him in stunned silence. “No.” His voice is higher than usual, even if only a little bit, before he snaps back into himself. “Why would I cry?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.” Stiles glances at the TV and cackles. “I’ve never seen anybody cry during a Resident Evil movie.” This evening, night – how late is it anyway? – gets better and better. He’s so glad he didn't leave with the others. “What’s gotten to you? The untimely death of the licker?” He leans forward wiggling his brows, Theo rolls his eyes and swats at his face; he misses. Probably intentionally. “Matt's kidnapping? The horrific acting?”

Theo runs his fingers through his hair with a huff. “Maybe I've reached my limit putting up with your dumb ass.”

Stiles presses a hand to his chest making his bottom lip quiver. Crying on command is one of his greatest skills since he's been a kid. “Oh, no- you don’t enjoy my company? Whatever will I do?” He throws his head back at the ceiling clutching his throat to achieve the most dramatic choked off sound. “I’m scarred forever. My life has ended. I will never-“ A pillow hits him and he topples over with a yelp. As his head meets the soft sofa, he’s reminded of the unfortunate bump-to-be. “ _Ow_. Don’t whack me with a pillow, you fuckboat.”

Scoffing, Theo gets to his feet. “I panicked," he deadpans glancing over his shoulder, "I thought you wouldn’t shut up.”

Stiles props himself up on his elbows, eyes trailing Theo as he saunters to the kitchen area. His posture is a lot more relaxed than it used to be. He also looks different, although nothing has changed; other than his hair being a little longer, at least. Lydia calls it a ‘glow-up’ which apparently accompanies his path of redemption, and it's hard to deny that. His shoulders are great. And arms. And ass. _Fucking hell_ , that's nothing he should think about while he's being alone with the guy. Nobody needs that, least of all he himself. Instead, he should focus on how unfair the glow-up is, after all, he looked like Hell had hashed and rehashed him, only to spit him back out after the nogitsune had been done with him.

Stiles shakes his head. “Oh, please,” he calls grinning as Theo shoots him a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder, “like you don’t enjoy my wit, charm and sparkling personality.”

Theo _uh-huhs_ opening the fridge.

“I’m lovable, okay? And don’t even think for one second, I’ve forgotten you cried during Resident Evil. Seriously. Who does that?” The fridge closes with a thud, and Theo returns with two cans of soda and a bag of Oreos between his teeth. The good ones with extra cream. All hope isn’t lost, it seems. “Mason’s gonna be pissed he missed it.”

“You’re not gonna tell anybody,” Theo warns around the piece of plastic between his teeth. His scowl deepens.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles tugs on the bag of edible perfection – or almost perfection. He cannot ignore Reece’s. Nothing is better than Reece's. “So, you admit you cried then?”

Theo plops onto the couch with graceful ungracefulness. People like him always manage to look perfect no matter what they do. “You’ll only blow it out of proportion like you always do. And fuck knows what Mason’s gonna do with a bullshit story like that.”

“It’s called good-natured teasing.”

“You tell them I cried, I tell them you snuggled up to me in your sleep.”

Stiles opens his mouth for a reply, but his mind goes blank. _Shit_. He completely forgot about that. Seems as if he’s hit his head a bit harder than expected. But it comes back to him now. The warmth. The comfort. The fingers ghosting over his spine. Stiles flushes, hates he does so. The smirk on Theo’s lips doesn’t help either. In fact, it makes him look like a giant asshole in desperate need of a beating. He doesn’t go through with it, though. Instead, he rips the soda out of his hand with way more force than necessary. “Jokes on you, dickweed,” he grumbles popping it open, “then you’d have to admit you never pushed me away.” _And that he pet him_.

Theo tears the bag of Oreos open. “So? It’s not as if anybody believes I’m coming to these movie nights cause I wanna mingle with the puppies. Or am actually interested in the movies we watch.” He eyes Stiles briefly before focusing on the content of the bag in his hands, leaving him speechless yet again. If he isn't here for the others and he’s not joining them because of the movies they’re watching, then he’s coming for _him_? That doesn’t make a lick of sense, right? _Right_? Right. And can his heart please calm down? This is nothing to rejoice at. There’s a reasonable explanation for his words. And the fact they kinda cuddled. And that Theo caressed his back.

Okay. There may not be another explanation.

Oh god.

Oh _god_.

Theo shakes the bag, and it's very likely he pretends not to notice his existential crisis. “More than half of the movies we’ve watched sucked anyway.”

That got Stiles’ mind back on track. “What the fuck?”

“You heard me.”

Stiles swats the offered cookies away. “What is wrong- never mind.” He blinks, tries to get his brain to work. “Who raised-“ He stops again, kicks Theo’s leg as he snorts out a laugh. “Some of these movies are classics. I cannot handle another philistine in our pack.”

Theo straightens, Oreo forgotten halfway to his mouth. He stares, and Stiles stares back with wide eyes. Oh shit. Fuck. He said it. He said it out loud and within hearing distance. _Talk. Just keep fucking talking._ Theo’s never going to mention it if Stiles pretends it doesn’t matter. There’s still time to jump off this sinking ship. “Okay," he amends, sounding a bit too breathless for his liking, “we’ve watched a few shitty movies. It’s the price you have to pay when Liam's allowed to choose.” He quirks a brow, throws in a weak attempt at a grin. “Why don’t you ever decide what we’ll watch?”

Still eyeing him suspiciously, Theo shrugs and bites into his cookie.

“Come on, there has to be at least one movie you like,” Stiles says quirking his brows. With another shrug, Theo drops the bag between them. “It?” Stiles offers fishing for a cookie now. He just has to play it cool, pretend nothing weird has ever happened, ignore the problem until it eventually goes away on its own. “Everybody likes It.” Or is terrified because of _clowns._ Clowns who are offering little children balloons in the sewers. Before eating them alive. God, Stiles really hates clowns. They've never been funny or cute in the first place. That stupid movie made these spawns of hell outright terrifying.

Theo contemplates his words for a second. “It?”

Stiles almost drops the Oreo as he gapes at him. “Stephen King’s It?” But Theo shrugs again. He can’t believe this conversation is actually happening. “The Shining? The Exorcist?” A no and another no. What the fuck is going on here? He has to have slipped into some kind of parallel universe in which true classic movies don't exist. “Alien, at least? The first one, the others are just milking its success.” Theo scrunches up his face and Stiles throws his hands in the air. The _blasphemy_. “Dude, seriously? Did the Dread Doctors have no appreciation for art? How the hell did they expect you to act like a functioning member of society if you don’t even know the quintessential movies? And then you cry during Resident Evil!” Stiles refuses to believe this is happening. He refuses to even think this is possible. The guy has to be fucking with him.

The pillow thrown at him misses him by inches. “I didn’t cry.”

Stiles leans forward with narrowed eyes. “The only movies you’re allowed to weep over are the Lord of the Rings movies.” He’s not ashamed to admit that. Not even a little bit.

Theo scratches the back of his head.

“No, way. Come on, _really_?”

Theo’s smile turns almost sheepish at his outrage. It renders him boyish and handsome and it distracts Stiles for longer than he is ready to admit. His gaze drops to his mouth, and he can't stop staring when the smile turns into a smirk.

Stiles’ eyes snap back up locking with mischievous blue ones. “I’m calling an intervention.” He wrenches the topic back into his own hands, keeps an eye on the chimera as he puts both their cans and the bag on the coffee table. “We’re spending the weekend together, so I can show you the most important movies. We’re starting _now_ , buddy.” He can feel his heartbeat pick up again, bounces his leg in tune to it. Theo wets his lips, expression unchanging. Stiles drags his gaze back up to meet his eyes but can’t stop himself from looking at his mouth again. It’s quite easy to imagine how it will feel against his own. Soft lips, sharp teeth. It would feel good. Amazing. Theo's probably a great kisser. “I don’t want any complaints.” His muscles tense, and Theo leans closer, fingers brushing against the fabric of his jeans. “You dug this grave by yourself, I’m here helping you out.”

Theo nods although Stiles is pretty sure he’s not even listening any longer.  _He_ is barely listening to himself. His nerves are on fire, his body already knowing what’s about to happen – what’s _finally going to happen_. His mind is in a state of utter panic, though. His mouth doesn’t stop working although his voice fades with every word. “Crying during Resident Evil.” Theo’s fingers trace his jaw before curling around the nape of his neck. There's no resistance to be found. “I can’t believe I ever had to witness such a travesty.” His voice can't even be considered a whisper any longer. Stiles is aware Theo knows what he’s doing to him; and he probably enjoys it more than he should, that’s why he’s dragging it out.

“Are you done?” Theo’s smirk doesn’t waver once as he pulls him closer.

Stiles swallows, nods and meets Theo halfway. It’s too hasty, the angle not right. They knock teeth. Of fucking course, they are. Stiles pulls away with a wince, pain and humiliation warring inside him. His cheeks burn. His stomach drops. Fucking hell, as if it’s not bad enough that _he_ knows he’s inexperienced. He doesn’t need to prove it. But he does because that’s his fucking life. Fantastic, isn't it?

When Theo laughs, it's a soft sound, melodic almost, albeit stifled behind a hand. “I didn’t expect you to be that eager to kiss me back.”

Stiles lets out a shaky breath, licks his front teeth. That was uncomfortable; them knocking teeth, not the words. Those only confused him. “Why do you think I hung back? Or drive with you every time?” Although to be fair, he hasn't even realised it until now. He should’ve but he didn’t. It's nothing new that his body his miles and miles ahead of him. That's why he trusts his gut-instincts more than his brain. He’s not as brilliant as Lydia makes him out to be. “What do you take me for? A masochist?” Or a stupid, inexperienced child who's never kissed a person in his life. Fuck his life, just, _fuck it_. He kissed people before. What the hell is wrong with him?

Theo chuckles. “A paranoid gump.” The smirk returns when Stiles glares at him. Theo chuckles, shakes his head. “It’s called good-natured teasing.”

“ _Ha ha_.”

Theo places his hand at Stiles' cheek, a touch he immediately leans into. This gentle behaviour is new to him, but he can't deny that he enjoys it a lot. The smile makes Stiles weak in the legs, and he’s glad he’s already sitting. Theo bites his bottom lip, almost as if to hide his grin, and leans forward again. This time, he waits until they are actually kissing before he inches closer, but Theo pulls back only a moment later, takes away the high and looks at him, eyebrows quirked. Stiles doesn’t have the patience to put this off. Not after getting a taste of what his body has secretly craved all along.

He crashes their mouths together, with questionable finesse but no amounting pain. Theo chuckles before he places his hands underneath his ass to hoist him onto his lap. And it’s like something dissolves inside him. Stiles straddles his thighs, cups his jaw. A timid moan escapes him. Relief floods his senses as Theo seals their lips together, one hand on the nape of his neck the other on his ass. He squeezes it, groans into the kiss and it’s the best fucking thing Stiles has ever heard. Finally, he understands what people mean when they talk about being touch-starved, although this feels more like being Theo-starved. Lydia constantly grabs his arm or holds his hands. They have a very touchy relationship.

Theo tilts his head to the side, bites his bottom lip before sliding his tongue over it. Kissing him comes with an instant addiction. They part for breathless laughter. It doesn't take more than maybe a second or two before their lips meet again. Stiles can't shake the high, the excitement, the _rush,_ and he sucks Theo's bottom lip between his teeth, enjoys the tingles running down his spine as he's rewarded with a moan. At least, until Theo's hand comes up to curl into his hair causing him to wince and duck away. “ _Ow_.” Fucking hell. His poor head. "This fucking side table needs to go."

Chuckling, Theo taps a finger against his forehead. “You think we’re sleeping on the couch when I’ve got a comfortable bed over there?” He juts his chin in the direction of the TV leaning up to kiss him again. 

Stiles whines low in his throat. “I can’t stay overnight. Dad’s gonna lose his shit.”

Theo groans and ducks down, presses his lips between his ear and his neck. Heat explodes in his gut. Oh god. This doesn't make going home tempting at all. Not even a little bit. Stiles shudders, runs his fingers through the short strands of his hair. “You’ll come back tomorrow?” Theo asks leaving a trail of kisses, bites his jaw playfully. His voice is quiet, already wrecked and so, so hopeful. 

If it were anatomically possible, Stiles would dissolve on the spot. “You're not getting out of a movie weekend that easily, Raeken.”

Theo smiles against his neck sucking a bit of skin between his teeth. Stiles moans quietly, tugs at his hair in warning. Grinning innocently, Theo tips his head back to look at him. “I’ll pick you up for breakfast.” He pulls him closer, both hands firmly placed on his ass now, and the grin on his lips is nothing less than wolfish. Clichés have never looked so handsomely sinful.

“We should use the time before I have to leave.”

“And when’s that?” Theo's smirk turns foreboding.

"As soon as my father’s blowing up my phone with messages ordering me to come home 'this instant'.” Stiles bends down to press their mouths together, enjoying the feeling too much to stay away for long, enjoys it too much to care that his father will scold him for not coming home before midnight without calling or texting. It's just a thing he does since he knows about the supernatural. Not that Stiles blames him. "Make it worth the lecture."

Theo slips his hands into the pocket of his jeans and squeezes his ass. "Oh, I can do that." 

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://msmischief101.tumblr.com/):


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